The prospector is the
epitome of honesty. When he strikes a town in the mineral area generally
he is empty in pocket or else his purse is slender in the extreme. Yet,
once his bona fides are established, he is extended almost unlimited
credit, the tradesmen knowing full well that when metal is struck their
accounts will be settled. Many strange worthies of this character may be
mot in British Columbia. There was Archie McMurdo, for instance. A
Scotsman, he was canny to an extreme degree, although he “was broke to
the wide ” when ho came into the town. He had devoted the greater part
of his life to scratching the rocks on the mountain slopes, and success
had attended his perseverance. He staked two rich gold claims. Satisfied
with this measure of success, he returned to the adjacent township to
pass his time in indolence and ease until financiers, came his way and
took over his properties, as he knew would be the case sooner or later.
He would not do a stroke of work; he disarmed of the wealth in the air
which was to materialize. Although he eking to his claim for ten year.
without a sign of development materializing in the meantime he never
grew down hearted.
One day some mining
experts, acting on behalf of financiers who had heard of Archie’s
finds—he took good care that attractive stories as to the value of his
prospects should be sedulously circulated—appeared on the scene. They
were desirous of investigating the McMurdo claims. Archie, as usual, was
ran to earth in the hotel where he had been living gaily and had not
paid a cent for years. Everything he had was written upon the slate, or
rather in a good-sized account book. The mining experts expressed their
intentions, and requested Archie to accompany them.
“I’ll see you to blazer
first!” replied Archie.
“But, man, we cannot do
anything unless we see what, you’ve got,” replied the experts.
“I dinna care,” was
Archie's retort. “Unless you plank down a hundred dollars for my
expenses, and deposit spot cash in the bank to be handed over to me when
you come back, I’m not going. I’ve spent too many years among those
darned mountains to go there again on chance.”
Argument was useless.
The money he demanded had to be deposited, and then he sallied off to
lead the experts to one of his claims. It was far up on the
mountainside, and when they reached the bottom of the trail he told the
experts to go ahead. He would wait for them.
“But you must come and
show us the place,” urged the engineers.
“No, not me! I'm not
going to pull up that slope any more. There’s the trail which I cut
myself. It leads straight to the spot. You can’t miss it, so I’ll sit
down here and wait until you come back.” Saying which, he planked down
on a dead fall and puffed away at his pipe as if the engineers were
miles away.
Having come so far, the
latter did not care to return without having achieved their object. They
could not shake Archie’s obstinacy, so they went alone. He waited
patiently for hours, and upon their return inquired if they were
satisfied. They responded in the affirmative, and Archie accompanied the
party back to the town; highly elated. He went straight to the bank,
and. drew out the £1,000 that had been deposited for his property. He
sailed off to the hotel, called for his account which had been running
for ten year&, and settled it up without a murmur. Then he strode up the
street, and. entered the store where he had obtained unlimited credit
for an equal length of time. It was no easy matter to tot up his debts,
for they occupied a few score pages. But at last the bill was presented,
and, without scanning a sheet, Archie paid the amount. He then returned
to the hotel, completely satisfied with the world at large, and called
for drinks.
His claim was opened
up, and its success prompted another group to approach him for his
second claim. The party were met just as nonchalantly. Archie explained
its position, related how it could be reached, and told the engineers to
start off right away. When they suggested that ho should come along too,
ho laughed them to scorn, and told them point blank that if they
couldn’t find their way with the instructions he had given them, they
had better go back home and leave the claim alone.
Unfortunately, the
rigours of exposure among the mountains, combined with excesses in the
town, had undermined McMurdo’s constitution. He was stricken down with
illness, and was hurried off to the hospital. On the last day of the
year the second claim matured, and £10,000 were handed to the rugged
prospector. But he never saw a penny of it. On the following day he
succumbed, but he died with the satisfaction that he did not owe a
farthing to anyone.
The vast tract of
wilderness north of the Fraser River stretch ing away to the Arctic
circle, but especially in the watershed of the Peace River, is
associated with much yellow wealth. It has been difficult of access
hitherto, but penetration is becoming easier every day now, owing to the
construction of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway.
The Pine River has been
the scene of mining bustle in the past, for the river bed is rich in
colour. The gold-bearing area extends over 100 miles, and miners using
primitive rockers have wrested as much as £3 to £4 worth of gold per day
from the silt. A few miners are to be encountered along its banks
to-day, but its attraction appears to have disappeared. The gold is
worth panning, the metal being in heavy flakes like fish scales, while
in some places quite largo nuggets have been found. The working season
extends from March to October, and certain success attends the
industrious, despite the remote situation of the territory. As the Peace
River country is being settled so rapidly, however, it is probable that
a large number of prospectors and miners will force their way into the
country. It should be a promising undertaking for some energetic
prospectors to trace the part from which this gold is brought down, and
undoubtedly many of the creeks and rivulets feeding the Pine River, and
which rise high up on the mountain crags, would repay exploration. At
the present moment the installation of a dredger should be remunerative
upon this 100 miles of the river. I have been told that such could bo
transported and launched upon the waterway for between £30,000 and
£40,000, and that men competent with such means of extracting the gold,
could make from £5 to £8 apiece per day in wages, doing as much work in
that time as from 800 to 1,000 men with pans and rockers.
The fascination of
prospecting is its glorious uncertainty. One never knows when a strike
is going to be made. There was one coal prospector who had made a study
of the eastern Rocky Mountains coal bed. One day he suddenly announced
his intention of setting off towards Jasper House on the Athabasca
River, to continue his investigations. It seemed a hopeless quest,
because geological knowledge was dead against him. The prospector,
however, had elaborated his own ideas, and he started out. He commenced
operations on the southern side of the river, and he had not gore far
when he struck a rich seam of coal. He probed the country through and
through, and found coal of excellent quality on every hand. As a matter
of fact, he struck one of the finest coal deposits in the West, and
development more than confirmed his prospects. I was taken over the
preliminary works, and the whole mountains seemed to be alive with the
black mineral fuel. Before the prospector had completed his work,
thirteen square miles of land were pegged off for operations, and
geological knowledge was scattered ruthlessly to the four winds. To-day
the Jasper Park Collieries give every indication of becoming one of the
largest and most valuable coal properties in the West.
Yet this discovery was
but a repetition of experience in connection with Cobalt. Geologists
laughed at the mere Idea that silver was likely to be found in thin
district. Why, the very character of the rocks was all against such a
probability! How far geological science was correct one can judge
to-day, because two-thirds of the world’s supply of silver comes from
the very country which was ridiculed as being unable to yield an ounce
of silver.
It is stated that the
Cobalt mineral wealth was discovered by accident. Legend relates that a
deer was being hunted through the bush. In its mad flight it passed near
a blacksmith’s shack. The son of Tubal Cain was at work as the deer
passed, and he flung his heavy hammer at the frightened animal. The
missile missed the target, but struck a large dull-looking stone,
breaking off a fragment. The blacksmith went to pick up his hammer, but
in stooping, noticed that the stone gave a brilliant lustre, where it
had been chipped. The boulder was picked up, and further investigation
revealed the fact that it was a maws of silver!
It is a pretty story,
but as a matter of fact the discovery oi tho metal was stripped of such
romance. The wealth was found during prosaic prospecting by an
industrious individual who cared little for scientific opinion. When he
struck the silver veins, a frantic rush ensued, and in a few weeks, what
was a picturesque sylvan f pot in the beautiful Temagami country, was
stripped of its bush, and was dotted with tents and hastily-built
shacks.
Fortunes have been won
and lost at Cobalt by the score. One man was anxious to get into the
country, but he had not the wherewithal to pay his railway fare farther
than North Bay. He did not cherish the prospect of walking 200 miles, so
he “beat” the train into the country. He landed in Cobalt without a
penny in his pocket. When he returned south, he travelled not on the
roof exposed to the elements, but in the luxury of the Pullman
drawing-room car. Another prospector came into Cobalt with £00 in his
pocket, and having had wide prospecting experience among the mountains
of British Columbia, he soon turned his original capital into between
£40,000 and £60,000. Some of the big finds in Cobalt have been made
quite by accident. Outside one shack a plank-seat was supported on two
largo boulders. One day an occupant of the meat was idly sharpening his
jack-knife upon one of the masses of rock. Presently he became intensely
interested in the stone, and submitted it to a closer inspection. The
ungainly mass of rock supporting the seat turned out to be a silver
nugget weighing over 1,000 ounces and worth about £400.
The prospecting and
gold-camp of to-day is vastly dissimilar from the hotbeds of debauchery
and crime pictured by Bret Harte. As a ride they are fairly well ordered
communities, thanks to the action of the forces of law and order. Such
tricks as jumping claims are very seldom practised; in fact, they are
practically unknown. The miners are guarded by the Government, through
their licences, which cost but a small sum per year, and these provide
complete protection, as well as affording other benefits.
The wonderful
discoveries of the Klondyke precipitated possibly the greatest rush in
Canadian history. Though the easiest route was by water from western
coasts port to Skaguay, many were lured into the effort to toil 4,000
miles across country from Edmonton. The fever broke out in this town
with tremendous virulence, and some of the strangest vehicles it is
possible to conceive were delivered to carry the gold-seekers through
the most terrible country to be found on the continent. Some set off
with wheelbarrows, undeterred by the prospect of having to trundle the
same for such a tremendous distance, while large numbers set off on
sleighs. It was a disastrous expedition. The majority turned back,
abandoning their vehicles, provisions, and outfits to the mercies of the
elements. The trail was blazed for a considerable distance with these
discarded equipments. Some pushed on, desperately, determined to got to
their destination at all hazards. One prospector was found trundling a
wheelbarrow through the mountains some distance north of the Skeena
River two years after he had set out from Edmonton! He had lost his way,
his chum had died on the trail, and the survivor knew nothing about
time, days, or months. When found, he was pushing forward with more or
less energy. When he learned that he had beer, on the trail for nearly
two years, he gapped, but that did not deter him. Privation and
loneliness had almost deprived him of speech, and had dulled his
intellect to the point that he could not comprehend anything beyond the
fact that he was bound for the Klondyke and its gold. The hoys who found
him, only persuaded him to return to civilization with them by
impressing upon Lim the fact that the gold strike had “petered out,” and
that he was on a lost journey. Two miles a day had been his average
advance, and how he had contrived to cross the rivers single-handed was
a mystery which his rescuers could not fathom.
The discovery at the
Klondyke provoked a situation excelling in lawlessness any that were
incidental to the Californian gold-rush. Ore noted desperado ruled the
whole town of Skaguay. His avariciousness and crime knew no limits.
Before he was shot down, it is stated that over fifty prospectors and
gold-seekers had been sent to their doom after being robbed of their
hard-earned gold. His usual practice was to waylay them on the trail,
and to pitch their bodies into a canyon or gorge, where they were sale
from discovery. When challenged for having caused a man’s health, Soapy
Smith, which was the unpretentious name of this individual, always
replied that he shot in self-defence. In some instances such was the
case, and the desperado himself had many narrow escapes. One day he
waylaid a returning prospector on the mountain pass. The gold-seeker,
however, was not to be despoiled so easily. Ho met the hold-up with a
drive from his rifle, and the bullet went through Smith’s hat. A second
shot was impossible, because Soapy Smith pierced the prospector through
the heart. On another occasion he held up a young English fellow who was
returning to Skaguay. The boy did not take any notice of the challenge,
and Smith fired, knocking him over. The young prospector whipped out his
revolver, and blazed away at his adversary, twice wounding him slightly,
before the desperado settled the boy with his third shot. Smith was a
great anxiety to the Canadian authorities.
The Mounted Police were
stationed on the Boundary at the summit oi the Pass, and received strict
injunctions to arrest Smith if ho attempted any of his tricks on
Canadian territory. In Alaska, which was United States territory, he
could do as he liked or what was permitted —the desperado represented
law and order of his own peculiar formation—but at times he enraged the
honest citizens to such a pitch that ho had to make himself scarce for a
while. On such occasions ho hurried towards the Boundary, hoping to
snatch temporary asylum in Canada, until things quietened down in
Skaguay. But his efforts were fruitless : the Mounted Police always
frustrated his plans. Just as he was on the verge of stepping across the
border, he was confronted by one of these guardians of the Great West.
At last, the latter wearied of watching such a parasite. He was taken
quietly aside by one of the police, and told very significantly that “if
he were seen on Canadian territory he would receive more asylum than he
cleared with a bullet. They would not trouble to arrest and try such
carrion as him, as it would be waste of time and money.” Smith took the
hint, and was never seen to make another attempt to penetrate into
Canada. Shortly afterwards he was shot down by the infuriated townsfolk
of Skaguay, and the reign of terrorism was ended.
A graphic and intimate
impression of the adventurous life of the mineral prospector was
conveyed to me one right round the blazing camp fire, by my companion on
the trail, Robert C. W. Lett. When he broke away from the lonely calling
of game-warden in Algonquin Park, be embarked upon a prospecting
expedition. Two experienced companions joined him in this pursuit of
fortune, the projected field for their labours being one of the
innermost recesses of Ontario, which has since gained tame at the
Gowganda country.
The definite intention
of this trio was to find silver, if possible, though, of course, they
were quite ready and willing to stake out claims of any other commercial
minerals, should signs thereof present themselves. They started out from
Latchford on the Montreal River, just south of Cobalt, in the early
spring of 1907.
A steady 150 miles pull
along the Montreal River confronted them at the outset, and it proved a
pretty tough undertaking negotiating the fiendish rapids -with which the
upper reaches of this waterway abound, with two heavily-laden canoes,
carrying sufficient foodstuffs and other requisites for three months,
prospecting, as they proceeded. The Cobalt boom was at its height at the
time, and the fever-stricken prospectors, many of them amateurs, were
rambling over the country in all directions. To many of these greenhorns
the Montreal River proved a Waterloo. The stream swings along at a
terrifying pace, bristles with perils of the worst description, and can
only be navigated safely by an old hand. Yet many of the tenderfeet were
foolish enough to attempt to master its idiosyncrasies and dangers
without any previous boating experience whatever, with the inevitable
result—fatalities were numerous.
Lett pushed along in
one canoe, and hi» two companions managed the second boat. This was the
order of the day, but when the long, arduous portages had to be made,
the three boys joined hands, carting the baggage and boats over the
interruption in the water journey. They drove their way for fifty four
miles through swarms of prospectors, feverishly scratching the
hillsides, to Elk Lake, which then was being st arched energetically.
The trio, however, passed on, and once Elk Lake was left behind, they
found the number of mineral-searching rivals grow fewer and fewer in
number. This was not surprising, as the rock formation was extremely
discouraging, and appeared to grow worse, ,so far as mineral wealth was
concerned, the farther they pushed on.
The party reached the
foot of Nine-Mile Rapids, so called because the river rushes through a
narrow gorge at this point. It was late in the day, and a heavy lift of
one mile over a towering hill confronted them. They decided to put off
this stiff job till the morrow, so sneaking up in the eddy at the foot
of the Rapids, the canoes were run ashore, the dunnage was thrown out,
and camp was pitched. While the party were seated round the camp fire in
the gloaming, discussing the next morning’s task, they heard a peculiar
wail above the churning of the waters. It resembled the cry of a cat,
but the idea of seeing this animal in such a wild spot was so
extraordinary. that they dismissed its possibility from their minds,
attributing the wail to the rapids, because one Imagines one can hear
strange and fantastic sounds in the music of the waters. The howl
continued, and grew more nerve-racking. At last, one of the boys,
glancing round in the direction whence the sound came, spied through the
dusk a large black cat perched on the top of a cedar-tree, on the
opposite bank, and apparently calling for help. It was quite impossible
to rescue the animal, as the river could not be crossed unless they
dropped downstream a mile, and then there would have been very heavy
going over rough country to got at the cat’s eyrie. Suddenly, to the
astonishment of the party the cat gave a spring into the maddened
waters, and was lost to sight! It reappeared just as suddenly
downstream, swimming frantically, and as it was swung along in the
swirling waters, it grabbed the stub of a tree with a clutch of death,
pulled itself from the water, gave a bound, and landed on the same bank,
from which it had started. The party thought no more about the incident,
concluding that the cat would not reappear, after one such experience.
But to their amazement,
in the course of a few minutes, the cry broke out again, more
plaintively than ever, and there was the cat on the cedar-tree stamp.
Once more they saw it give a spring to land in the rapids. This time
pussy was taken well downstream, was lost to sight and the party thought
that the last had been seen of it. But just as they were curling up in
their sleeping-bags, the wail broke out for the third time. They were
too tired to keep awake any longer, and fell into the arms of Morpheus,
with the cat’s cry beating into their ears above the droning of the
rapids. For days after they thought they could hear the cat calling, and
wondering how such an animal happened to be so far from the haunts of
men, inquired of the fire-warden, whom they met a few daj s later. Then
the mystery was solved. The black cat belonged to a prospector, who had
lost his mascot some weeks before.
On this trip the party
accomplished an apparently impossible task—they built a cabin with
eleven nails. It may seem incredible, but it was an absolute fact, for
the simple reason that no more were available. When they struck a
blacksmith working at his forge, they gave him one of the nails, which
was a pretty big one, and he drew it out thin enough to make three
nails. As may be imagined, the nails were driven home with extreme care,
and in the right place every time. This particular blacksmith, Tom
Sharpe, was a handy man, and one who had been kicked by Fortune pretty
badly. He discovered the big Lawson Vein in Cobalt, which is a solid
streak of silver fully nine inches wide, and polished flush with the
country rock on each side. When Tommy made this find he was so new at
the business that he did not know whether he had struck iron or silver,
and the luck he struck brought him in only a miserable bagatelle of
£140!
The party traversed
country which was sheer wilderness, and which has still to await the
coming of the surveyor with hit, tranbit and level. Their luck appeared
to be dead out; so much so, in fact, that after they had crossed the
height of land between, Hudson Bay and the Great Lakes, they retraced
their steps, owing to the unpromising character of the rock, keeping to
the Montreal River until they gained Wapoose Creek. Here they called a
halt, two resting at the meeting of the waters, while Lett paddled up
the creek to make a reconnaissance for a suitable spot in which to camp.
After making one-and-a-half miles upstream, Lett was brought to a stop
by rapids, and then he decided to wait until his companions came up, as
they had promised to follow him. He kicked his heels idly about on the
bank for half an hour, and then, growing impatient, drew the bow of the
canoe ashore, and with his prospecting pick, decided to pass the time
ferreting round. There was a large talus heap in the vicinity, and he
started turning this over. He found the rock to be diabase, similar to
that found in the Cobalt silver area, and this was very encouraging. He
examined the broken mass carefully, and finally lighted on one piece
which bad evidently broken away from a vein many years before. It proved
to be caleite: the scent grew stronger. Indeed, it was the first
promising find the party had made during many score miles of search, and
this discovery proved that the country might possibly be very rich in
valuable mineralized veins. Lett was so elated with his success, that he
pitched a chunk of the rock into his canoe, and swung downstream to pick
up his companions, to report the result of his find. He found the two
boys slaving for dear life preparing a camping-ground, and having a
lively time. The mosquitoes had turned out in force to repel the white
man’s invasion, and they were about the most ferocious members of their
race that they had ever struck. Before they could obtain the slightest
respite from the vermin’s onslaughts, they had to don buckskin mittens,
to plaster then skin with fly “dope,” as the Halve against bites is
picturesquely termed, and to enclose their heads in miniature meat
safes. Even then they failed to hold their own against the swarms of
formidable insects, but had to abandon their camping-ground, and to
withdraw their forcer, to a flat rock of slate, which projected into the
river, and on which they raised their tent, weighting the ropes with
heavy stones, instead of securing them to pegs.
The calcite find was
discussed very eagerly that night after supper, and under the
circumstances it was decided to follow up these indications in the hope
of striking a rich vein. The next day they pushed towards the foot of
the Wapoose Creek Rapids, and embarked upon a systematic investigation
of the rock formation. Again Lett drew a lucky card, for after two or
three days’ diligent prospecting, he lighted upon a tiny piece of cobalt
bloom, which indicates the presence of smalltite, the ore of cobalt. The
“ strike ” was made, and the trio set to work staking their claim.
The three prospector?
have received the due reward for their temerity in venturing into an
unknown country, and their arduous tracking through mile after mile of
exasperating primeval country, for they hold no less than 410 acres,
containing ample water power and innumerable indications of a rich
deposit of silver, which has been proved in largo quantities by the men
engaged in performing the assessment work required by law. Lett and his
companions not only were among the first to penetrate the Gowganda.
country, but their exploration work was carried out to such distinct
advantage, that their results have become of value to the Government,
and the foundations of a second Cobalt have been built, ready to go
ahead directly the railway reaches it, and permits machinery to be
brought in.
Thus it Will be
realized that systematic search brings its fruits in due time. Yet the
prospector does not always reap the harvest of his hard toil. There was
Vital LeFort for instance. This French-Canadian from the East was among
the first to track gold in British Columbia. A rush ensued to “Vital
Creek,” as the hub of activity was called. Many made money out of that
strike, but not so the man responsible for the excitement. He failed to
rise to the occasion, being content to sit on his claim. When I met
Vital LeFort, he ferried me across the Nechaco River, within sight of
the Hudson Bay trading post at Fort Fraser. This was his only source of
income, the Government having placed Him in charge of the means of
crossing the waterway at this point, with the revenue from the traffic
as his means ox livelihood. Even this calling is in danger of
disappearing, because the iron horse is hurrying rapidly through this
country, and when it arrives, there will be little traffic to be ferried
across the river. |